


Unanticipated

by problematic_just_because



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Molly, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Insecure Mycroft, Matchmaker John, Miscommunication, Omega Mycroft, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 04:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17911826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematic_just_because/pseuds/problematic_just_because
Summary: London’s most confident omega, least intimidating alpha, and luckiest blogger.





	Unanticipated

Mycroft Holmes needed to get laid, John had decided.  
He had been in Baker Street at five o’clock that morning.  
Fully dressed! As peppy as one could expect Mycroft to be.  
On top of that he’d had the audacity to get Sherlock riled up too. At five o’clock in the morning. Ensuring that John’s day was going to be wholly miserable as well. 

The man never slept. Surely never worried about anybody else’s sleeping.  
And so John had made his conclusion- it was his duty to set him up with somebody. 

Not that he particularly wanted to unleash the terror that was Mycroft Holmes on anybody but… he could be pleasant, was probably lonely, and it’s not like John had any major complaints beyond minor quirks. Which needed to be ironed out, of course. For John’s sanity. And sleep schedule.

But now John realised he didn’t know who to set the man up with. He wasn’t sure he even knew any omegas. Not that he’d ever asked Mycroft his second gender but… no. There couldn’t be a more alpha person in London. So he just needed to… find an unbonded omega. 

“Oh, sorry John”

John startled into consciousness. He was at Bart’s, and apparently he was in the way of what ever Sherlock had brought him there for- Molly had had to shove herself past him, but- Molly Hooper. There you go, John. Kind, smart, and had dealt with Sherlock long enough to be able to cope with all Holmesiness. She would be perfect. This could work.  
~  
John had asked Mycroft to dinner. To tell the truth he was still reeling, the man couldn’t seem to stand his presence on most days. He’d claimed he’d needed a chance to talk about Sherlock, complain perhaps, but Mycroft still felt that could have been managed in a less conspicuous way. 

But nonetheless there he found himself: at a table for two in the restaurant John had mentioned at the time they had scheduled for. Waiting.  
And then his phone buzzed. He held back a sigh. John was probably cancelling, he was already ten minutes late. Probably he’d come to his senses.

He looked down at his phone and the text was from John, but… the content was entirely unanticipated.  
Hey, sorry about the meeting thing, I just needed you in this restaurant. Look for an omega woman- Molly Hooper, Sherlock’s friend- longish brown hair, a bit on the shorter side.  
Good lord. This was a blind date.  
Just… try to enjoy yourself, yeah?  
Think about it before you decide to banish me to Eastern Europe ;)

Mycroft probably would have left, he probably should have, but the whole scenario was too bizarre, he was left staring at his phone for just a moment too long before- “Hello, I’m guessing you’re Mycroft?”  
Mycroft looked up into the face of the smiling brunette.  
This was Molly then. He could hardly leave politely at this point.  
Resigned to the date Mycroft smiled in return.  
“Mycroft Holmes, yes.”  
~  
Molly didn’t know why she’d agreed when John Watson of all people had offered to set her up on a blind date. Well, she did, she just didn’t like to admit it most of the time.  
The fact was Molly Hooper was more than a bit lonely. Some days the cat just wasn’t enough.  
She’d always hoped to bond, but she found herself consistently falling for the wrong people. So she bought a cat and mostly given up.

Now, however, she was getting ready for a date. A blind date, yes, but she couldn’t expect much after she’d put it off for this long.  
She also couldn’t help to be a bit excited. Still a blind date, but, Molly hoped at least, emphasis on date.  
If only John would text her already she could know where she was meant to be going, could go there, could go on her date. 

Molly was petting Toby absentmindedly. She refused to check her phone. Could not and would not get overly excited over a date she knew absolutely nothing about.  
Her phone went off. She jumped. Toby looked at her sourly.  
Molly ran her hand over the cat’s head apologetically before cautiously setting him to the side and getting up to see her phone.  
Bistro across the street from Bart’s. Look for Mycroft Holmes. Tall alpha with auburn-like hair. He’ll be in a three piece suit unless he had a stroke.  
“Alpha”… dear god John. At least he wasn’t the one who was the detective.  
She was an alpha, for goodness’ sake. 

Well she couldn’t possibly go. On a date with an alpha. John had obviously made a mistake…  
But that wasn’t Mycroft’s fault she supposed. Was this Sherlock’s infamous brother? It could be nice to finally meet him.  
In the end, Molly decided to go anyways. Couldn’t stand up somebody she’d never even met and, anyways, she supposed she might enjoy it.  
~  
Molly did enjoy the date. Very much. She found Mycroft to be charming, funny, polite, and, quite frankly, a bit adorable.  
The time passed quickly, there was the exchange of Sherlock stories but, more importantly, far MORE than Sherlock stories. By the end of the dinner Molly was quite shocked to find herself asking if they’d be able to meet again. Mycroft looked incredibly shocked as well, but nonetheless responded quickly that he would “very much like meeting again”; a smile coming to his face.  
And Molly decided that it wasn’t at all a bad idea to do this again, because she very much needed for him to smile at her again.  
~  
Mycroft climbed into the back of the black car and looked down at the calendar open on his phone.  
He’d gone on a date. He’d been asked to another. He said yes.  
It was ridiculous behaviour. Inexcusable really. Molly didn’t want to date an omega. She thought he was an alpha. She was looking for an alpha.  
But now Mycroft would have to pretend for her that that was exactly what he was. Again.  
~  
It was worrying actually.  
The alpha posturing went fine for work. Better than fine, really, he was “The British Government” after all, but for this, for intimacy…Mycroft felt a bit overwhelmed, actually. He could feel himself slipping from the mask- so of course he shouldn’t be doing this again… but he was.  
Mycroft typed the event into the calendar Date with Molly Hooper.  
~  
And many other dates with Molly Hooper came and went.  
Everytime, Mycroft couldn’t help but say yes. He just couldn’t possibly say no. Couldn’t bring himself to do anything that wouldn’t please his new partner.  
And there was the problem of course: the omega nature. Sooner than later Molly would find out. Surely. Then it would have to end. And he would be a mess.  
He knew this. He hated it, yes, but he knew it. Because “caring is not an advantage” would be completely out the window. He’d be alone again- even more painfully aware of it this time around. Maybe, then, this was also why he kept agreeing to the dates, he was putting off the inevitable. Pathetic.  
~  
Mycroft had gotten sick.  
He’d had to call Molly for a rain-check on the date they had planned for that night. And some part of him still felt a little upset about it. Ridiculous, of course. He was lying to her. But… still. He so enjoyed her company. 

There was a knock at the front door. Mycroft pitifully dragged himself from the couch to answer it only to find none other than Molly Hooper waiting there. 

“Molly-“ he started. He didn’t think he could possibly manage the alpha façade tonight.  
But Molly just smiled brightly at him and brushed her way into the flat.  
“Hi Mycroft. I felt bad about the date so I decided to come check on you instead. Oh, and I brought soup, it usually helps me a lot.”  
“Thank you..” Mycroft murmured. A bit lost as he followed Molly into his kitchen.  
Molly set down her bags and turned to face Mycroft.  
“Oh, but you do look awful.  
How about you just lie down again for a bit- we can cuddle.” Molly grinned at him, already pulling him to the sofa.  
“Oh- I don’t want to get you sick…” Mycroft tried to fight her, though he was already letting himself be pulled along.  
Molly laughed a bit then pulled Mycroft down onto the couch with her.  
“It’ll be okay. I promise I’m a remarkably healthy person.” 

Mycroft wanted to protest again, but he was remarkably tired. Exhausted really. He let himself be gently pulled against Molly in the corner of the couch. It wasn’t so bad he supposed.  
Then Molly started to gently stroke his back and Mycroft felt himself drifting off.  
~  
When Mycroft woke up the sun had finished setting. He shifted slightly, regaining his senses, and in the process shook Molly from her light doze.  
“Hello” she said softly, running her hand again down Mycroft’s back, “are you feeling any better?”

He was, actually. Much better.  
“Mm, yes, thank you.”  
“My pleasure” Molly couldn’t quite help the grin she felt spread across her face. This was nice.

They had been laying there for another half hour until when Mycroft began to notice it- the faint sweet smell.  
Damn his suppressants, for their limited time span. Damn the idiotic politicians who had necessitated we go to the office at four that morning. And damn John Watson, for he was the reason he had ever gotten tied into this complicated dance of sentiment and secrets.  
Mycroft stiffened. He wanted to run away, to be able to top off on his suppressants before Molly took notice of the smell.  
He supposed he would have felt a bit like Cinderella at midnight. If that wasn’t a completely ridiculous comparison; if it weren’t only ten o’ clock. 

Molly felt Mycroft shift uncomfortably, and then he began to pull away.  
“Mycroft, what’s wrong?” She tried to tug him back down, keep him from bolting until she knew just what he was bolting from.  
“I- I’m sorry. I have to- Need to-“  
“Hey, shh, Mycroft. It’s alright. Talk to me.” She ran her arm softly up and down his arm.  
“No. I need- I just need to get my suppressants.”  
Mycroft was looking away from her. Trying to pull away to the bathroom. Just for a moment- just before-  
Molly laughed gently. “Of course you don’t need to get your suppressants. It’s just me, it’s okay.” She didn’t understand Mycroft’s panic. If anything SHE should be the one worried about suppressants. 

“No. You don’t understand. I can’t-“ Mycroft broke off as he realized that his panic would only make the scent stronger.  
But now it was too late. Mycroft knew it would be clear now. He whined quietly in defeat and tucked his head into his hands.  
Molly would have to leave. It will be awkward. It will be awful. 

And now Molly could smell it- the distinct sweetness of an omega, and she could have squealed. How utterly perfect. 

“Oh, Mycroft… hey. Look at me.” She stroked his cheek gently. Couldn’t bear to see him in such distress and was now, finally, confident to admit to her possessiveness.  
Mycroft did so. Slowly, morosely, turning to face her.  
“I’m sorry” he said softly. His eyes were filled evenly with tears and shame and Molly desperately wanted to pull him back into her arms.  
“Whatever for?” she said, unable to keep the fondness and slight chuckle from her answer.  
Mycroft looked at her now. And he looked so sad. The omega feared rejection when Molly knew that now she’d likely never let go of him again.  
“For being an omega, I suppose,” he said, meeting her eyes cautiously, “for lying. For leading you on. It was selfish.”  
Molly smiled again and it felt wrong to be so gleeful in the face of Mycroft’s heart-wrenching misery. But this was very likely the greatest conversation of her life, and she knew she could clear Mycroft’s woe as well. 

She held out her wrist now. Carefully removing the large band she wore on it to hide the scent gland.  
“Mycroft. Look at me, please… I’m an alpha.” And with this she pushed her exposed wrist under the man’s nose. 

Mycroft stared at her for a beat. Slowly inhaling. But then the sweetest relief seemed to fill his face and he let out a gentle sob.  
This time Molly did pull him back against her chest. She wrapped her arms tightly around the man and stuck her nose against his hair. 

Now she felt Mycroft murmur against her neck, “So… you’d still want me…?”  
Mycroft’s voice was filled with the sweetest hope, and Molly overwhelmingly wished to kiss him. And she did.  
Mycroft was still at first, then reciprocated whole-heartedly.  
When they pulled apart moments later he looked at her with the most adorable startled expression on his face.  
“Of course I do, silly. I’ve wanted you this whole time.”  
This time Mycroft leaned in to start the kiss.  
~  
“I never really anticipated this outcome,” Molly reflected later on, the pair having resumed their gentle caresses, “I doubt I’ve ever met anyone with as much dumb luck as John Watson.”  
Mycroft laughed gently in response.  
“We should probably thank him. And ask him for the lotto numbers.”

**Author's Note:**

> John’s such a disaster of a matchmaker.


End file.
